


Whining and Wining

by radishleaf



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Alcohol, Drunkenness, F/M, Fluff, that's the gist of this fic, these idiots get drunk and talk lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 06:28:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18493285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radishleaf/pseuds/radishleaf
Summary: The shock of something unexpected has Beruka drinking with Niles.





	Whining and Wining

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted to write some drunken nilruka, but this didn't turn out how i wanted. it was fun to write, tho lol
> 
> got a little lazy at the end, so kindly disregard the likely unsatisfying ending. all i know is i will continue to produce nilruka content No Matter What. i'm not a staunch fan of kazilla, so i went with a random support for her.
> 
> as always, kindly disregard any grammatical errors, punctuation mistakes, and the like. i tried to be thorough. enjooooy.
> 
> for links to my tumblr, twitter, and other exterior sources for contact or requests, please refer to here: [plonk](https://radishleaf.carrd.co/).

When Niles rested the wine bottle on the crown of her head, Beruka had to hold down her desire to snatch it from him and chuck it into the nearest ditch. He was a thorn in her side that made her prickly; made her _feel_ things she once thought impossible. She’d all but convinced herself she was an emotionless monster, but when the archer beamed a cheeky smile down at her, her chest fluttered. Much to her chagrin, it was the only thing besides praise from Lady Camilla that had her faltering.

“What do you want,” she said, though more demanded of him. She shoved his arm away to glare at the label of the bottle, but it was complete gibberish to her save the notable mention of Nohr.

“A drink,” Niles said, as if all of his intentions were explained with that single utterance.

Beruka quirked a brow. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said. “What does that have to do with _me?_ ”

Niles rolled his singular eye. “You’re really slow on the uptake, aren’t you?” he said. Beruka grumbled silently under him. “I wanted to share a drink with you. Is that too much to ask?”

“Yes,” Beruka returned. “I don’t drink, Niles.”

Niles made a small noise of disappointment that, under different circumstances, would’ve upset Beruka. The more she learned of the man, the more she had to contend with the fact she _cared_ for these small moments with just the two of them. They were special, even if they were rare and in-between. However, if there was one thing Beruka _didn’t_ want to be around Niles, it was drunk. She knew of his wiles when it came to women—she would not be another name he bragged about.

Figuring their exchange was done, Beruka turned to leave, but tensed to a stop when she felt Niles’s hand on the small of her back. She jerked violently back to him, preparing a flurry of curses, but was silenced as Niles, in place of a finger, shushed her with the neck of the bottle. Following his line of sight, Beruka realized why: her charge was wrapped in the arms of one Kaze—a man Beruka _never_ realized the princess favored. The shock of the moment had a yelp stymied in her throat, which allowed Niles to smoothly guide her out of the area.

After all, Lady Camilla needed her privacy.

 

* * *

 

Beruka was bowled over, head in hands. She still couldn’t rid the image of her Lady Camila’s pert smile, the loop of a purple curl between Kaze’s forefinger and thumb, the light dusting of red on both of their cheeks. Even if only moments ago, it felt so distant, as if her mind was trying to drive it completely out of thought. It was only some roiling, heated feeling in the pit of her stomach that kept it vivid and alive.

As Niles settled in next to her, Beruka suddenly turned to him, and snatched the wine bottle from his hand. His small hoot of surprise was quieted by Beruka’s grumbles as she first tried to wrench the cork of the bottle out with her fingers, then her teeth. When her innumerable attempts failed, Niles chuckled and offered his hand. Beruka reluctantly returned the bottle to him.

“I don’t know why you’re so worked up over this,” Niles said as he produced a corkscrew from a stray pocket. He turned it once, twice, thrice, before pulling the cork from the bottle with a resounding pop. He gave the wine a small sniff and hummed appreciatively at the sour-sweet scent that hit his nostrils. “Lady Camilla is a woman. Even she’s allowed to love.”

“Yes, I know that,” Beruka said. “But—”

“Hm? What?” Niles took a long draw from the wine bottle and gave a satisfied ‘ahh.’

Beruka pursed her lips. She didn’t want to tell Niles anything, knowing he would twist her words, but her concerns flowed like a river without end. “Lady Camilla tells me everything,” she said quietly, “but not once did she mention finding love, let alone with _Kaze_.”

“Kaze is a good man,” Niles said.

“He is,” Beruka amended.

“Then I don’t see what the problem is.”

“I just said so: Lady Camilla never told me _anything_.”

Niles quirked a brow. “I’m positive even the eldest princess of Nohr is deserving of some kind of privacy,” he said. “Especially from her retainer. Unless,” a wry smile cracked on his face, “ _your_ feelings are—”

“Don’t be crass.” Beruka huffed and snatched the wine bottle from him. She swished the contents about before taking a long swig that burned the entire way down. It surprised her she hadn’t choked. “My life belongs to Lady Camilla, yes, but not my heart.”

Niles hummed, sing-song, as he gently took the bottle from her. His fingertips brushed against hers, eliciting a heat to her cheeks that Beruka blamed wholly on the alcohol.

“Then, who _does_ your heart belong to?” he asked. That smile of his never wavered.

Beruka’s lips parted to answer him, but sealed shut in the next instance. Every fiber of her being pushed her to say something, but the movement of her hand for the wine bottle and another drink had her drowning any words dancing on her tongue. Niles, perturbed that it was _his_ wine, snatched it back from Beruka for a drink himself before she drained the bottle completely.

Finally, Beruka said, “No one.”

“And why’s that?” Niles asked.

Beruka was taken aback at his soft tone. It was unbecoming of him. “I am undeserving of such happiness,” she said, her tone dropping to the same octave.

“You’re a woman, Beruka. Even you’re deserving of love.”

“Am I?” Her glare was steely when she looked to Niles. “I’ve only brought evil into this world, Niles. I am inhuman. A monster. I kill without remorse, without feeling. How is such a person deserving of love?”

Niles snorted at her as he downed more wine as if the answer was as clear as day. Frustrated by his lack of response, Beruka yanked the bottle from his lips. He grunted at her, wiping away the dribble of red down his unshaven chin.

“I was drinking that,” he said.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Beruka said. She slugged from the bottle again, finding it halfway done. This frustrated her more.

“I wasn’t sure if I should answer.”

“Well, you should.”

Niles sighed, lips tugging back in a lazy smile. “I never knew you cared for what I thought,” he said, “when you’ve never batted an eye at anyone’s opinion of you.”

“Just say what’s on your mind, Niles.”

He rolled his single eye again. “It’s simple, Beruka. A person doesn’t need a reason to love someone,” he said, “nor do they need a reason to be loved.”

Beruka narrowed her eyes at him. “It can’t be that simple,” she said.

“Nothing in life is simple,” Niles said. “But, love? With love, it can be that simple.”

“An exception to everything.”

“Precisely.”

Beruka gave a small huff of laughter, still unconvinced that such a complex emotion can be boiled down to simple loving or being loved. The sound dropped the smile from Niles’s face to one of bewilderment; he wasn’t aware Beruka _could_ laugh, let alone smile, but the one she cast his way dashed even that thought aside. He had to drink more wine to clear his senses.

“Hey!” Beruka cried with more force than she realized. “You’ll finish it, stop.”

Niles pulled away as she scrambled for the bottle. “I thought you didn’t drink,” he teased.

“I don’t,” she said. “Today is an exception.”

“An exception to everything?”

“To everything you know about me, yes.” When Niles handed her the bottle, the retainer gratefully drained its contents. “It’s done…”

Her puppy-dog disappointment had something stirring in Niles’s chest. “I can get more,” he said, which suddenly beckoned forth an expectant look on Beruka’s face. He found it uncharacteristically cute.

“Then, do that,” Beruka said. “Get more.”

Niles was quick on his feet. Everything in him reasoned neither Beruka nor him needed more, but rationality was already clouded by the influence of wine. Wine that, unfortunately, tasted very, very good.

 

* * *

 

It was unknown how long they drank or how many bottles from the cellar would need to be restored. What was once a sensible fabric of reality was torn through, leaving only frayed ends of memory as slowly Beruka came to. Her limbs felt impossibly heavy as a heady throb worked its way across her temple. The worst pain yet came from her neck; caught in a crooked angle as it rested on something firm.

As she shifted in place, an empty bottle rolled from her lap and far away from the likes of her hungover self. She craned her neck and a single eye open to watch it make a roundabout path to her left, and as she shifted her gaze up, she realized just _what_ she rested against. Niles’s chest served as her pillow, his arm wrapped about her shoulders as both support and comfort. He snored slowly in his inebriated sleep even as the soft glow of the rising sun etched light onto his tanned skin.

Beruka stiffened, her heart thundering like a feral creature in a cage desperate for release. She stared at him in astonished silence for so long, the sun eventually illuminated color to her pale face. Beruka planted hands on Niles’s side and shoved him off with what little strength she had. He flopped unceremoniously off of her and to the sod beneath, still slumbering soundly. Drawing in a breath, Beruka stumbled to standing and made her way off to her quarters.

She decided then and there to completely forget about her night with Niles; to leave it as a very distant memory that, hopefully, would be lost to the twining threads of time.


End file.
